


Catalyst

by Dhae



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Harm to Children, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhae/pseuds/Dhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a secret and he tells Reid. How will Reid handle said secret? And how will it impact Hotch's relationship with his girlfriend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dislike Beth, and it shines through. Proceed with caution!

Spencer Reid didn't know exactly when or why Jack Hotchner had chosen him for his confidante, but the fact remained that when Jack had questions he didn't want to ask Hotch, he asked Reid. It had been puzzling the first times it happened, and Reid still wasn't overly confident in his own abilities to communicate coherently on the level of a 6-year old boy, but when Jack asks him, Reid can't just turn away.

 

And so, it wasn't as much of a surprise as it probably should have been, that Jack wanted Reid to tuck him into bed on his birthday. Hotch just smiled and nodded his permission and although Beth looked a little tight around the edges, Reid did as Jack wanted.

What Jack usually wanted was for Reid to turn off the lights and recite a bedtime story in the darkness. Reid could do that, easily even, and he thought that it was probably one of the reasons why Jack regularly picked him to tuck him in when Reid visited around bedtime. Not that he'd done that much in the past four or five months. Things were different now that Beth was around, and every time he got to tuck Jack in now, he worried it might be the last time.

This night, however, once Reid had turned out the lights and taken a seat on the edge of Jack's bed, Jack spoke before he had a chance to begin his story.

"Can I tell you a secret, Spencer?"

"Of course you can, Jack. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

There was a rustling of hair against linen that probably signified Jack nodding.

"I know. Spencer... Don't tell dad, but... I don't really like Beth."

Reid swallowed, hard. He hadn't been expecting that. Jack seemed happy and well-balanced, generally. If he occasionally had a need to pull away or times when he was extra clingy, everybody ascribed that to his mother being murdered. But this...?

"Jack... Your dad. He really likes Beth. A lot."

"I know." Jack's voice was small and sad. "That's why you can't tell him that I don't like her."

Reid's heart broke for the boy. Jack was Hotch's son, through and through. With so much empathy he sometimes seemed to forget that it was okay to need something for himself. And with such an enormous need to keep everyone around him happy at all costs it sometimes seemed as if it would break him. Just as it did his dad.

"I won't. I promise I won't tell him. Can you tell me why? Why you don't like her?"

Another rustling, this one of skin against linen, and Reid took it to signify skinny shoulders shrugging under the blanket.

"I don't know."

Reid took a deep breath. He didn't know how long he had before Hotch or Beth checked up on them, but he hoped he'd have long enough. Jack tended to like long stories, and usually stayed awake until the end.

"Does she do stuff you don't like?"

Another shrug. "Not really."

"You just don't like her?"

"I guess."

"Jack. It's okay for you to not like Beth. You need to know that. But you also need to tell your dad. He needs to know stuff like this, okay?"

Reid thought his own breathing sounded overwhelmingly loud in the silence of the room. So overwhelming that he barely heard Jack's whispered reply.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

Next thing he knew, a small body collided with his chest, thin arms wrapping around his neck awkwardly, a face pressed into the juncture of neck and shoulder.

"I'm scared, Spencer. Dad is so happy with Beth, and he's still sad when he's with me. He tries to hide it, but I make him sad. What if he..."

Jack didn't finish the thought, too busy clinging and crying to make sense, and Reid hugged him close, trying to comfort him simply by being there.

"You know he'll pick you, Jack. He'll always choose you, you know that. Always. And you don't make him sad, I promise you."

Jack sniffled. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. He gets sad thinking about your mom. He gets sad thinking about you doing stuff she never got to see. But you don't make him sad. You make him happy, and that's what makes him sad, because your mom isn't there to be happy with the both of you, you know?"

Reid had no idea where the words were coming from. Much like with Hardwick years before, he found that he was terrified: if not for his life this time, then for Jack and Hotch's relationship. And as always, when he was terrified, words came out of his mouth and made a difference. He hoped they'd make a difference this time, too.

If not a difference, at least Jack wasn't crying as hard, anymore. In fact, he was pulling back, just a little, and a second later a small moist hand made contact with Reid's left cheek.

"I wish it was you."

Well. That was a non-sequitur as far as Reid was concerned.

"You wish it was me, what?"

Jack clung close again, and his voice was almost obscured by his mouth pressing against Reid's neck. "I wish it was you instead of Beth."

God, Reid thought, half-praying to a deity he couldn't rationalize believing in. He didn't even know where to begin to tackle that. Talking about how Hotch was straight and Reid wasn't even in the picture because of that would require a talk about sexuality Reid was not going to take on unless he had absolutely no choice. So really, that left only the option of love.

"It can't be, Jack. Love, the kind of love you have for a girlfriend or a boyfriend... it's not something you can force. You can't force yourself to like Beth, can you?"

The head under his chin shook. "No."

"And your dad... he can't force himself to stop loving her. Any more than he can stop loving you."

The body pressed up against him seemed to wilt. "I still wish it was you," Jack said plaintively.

The lump in Reid's throat grew to almost unmanageable proportions.

"I'll tell you what. You call me any time. Any time at all, if you want to talk, okay Jack? Even if all you want to do is listen to someone talking. Even if it's in the middle of the night. Okay?"

Jack hesitated, then he withdrew completely and crawled under his blanket.

"Okay Spencer."

Reid's heart hurt at the sound of his voice. Like a miniature-Hotch, who'd just retreated behind every shield he owned, pushed down his hurt and hid it. Jack was too young to do that. No child should even know how.

But there was nothing for it, and Jack was clearly shut down for the evening, so Reid stroked a hand over his hair. "You still want a story?"

"I just want to be alone right now."

God. Just like Hotch. And just like with Hotch, Reid didn't know how to push through.

He swallowed down his tears and said his goodbyes, first to Jack and then to Hotch and Beth before he was on his way. He'd give Jack a week. After that Reid would have to break his promise to the boy and broach the subject with Hotch. Jack's emotional health was more important than his own relationship with the boy, and Jack's relationship with Hotch was the most important one in this whole situation as far as Reid was concerned.

A week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

He hoped Jack would say something.

He didn't believe it.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a bad week, and Reid felt bad about making it worse. It felt unfair that they had spent five of the seven days in Sweet Home, Oregon hunting an unsub who was doing her very best to make sure the town didn't live up to its name.

But he'd made a promise to himself, and past experience had taught him that to postpone what needed to be done wouldn't make it any easier.

So although they were both tired, and even though Reid really felt that Hotch should leave his reports for the night and get home to Jack, he braved Hotch's lair, where the man himself was still working.

A cautious knock on the doorjamb had Hotch looking up.

"Reid. I thought you'd gone home? Did you need something?"

"Uh... yeah. Do you have a minute?"

Hotch looked at his watch, then at the files on his desk before he looked back up at Reid.

"Of course." He watched as Reid closed the door behind him, not forcefully, but with finality. "What is it?"

"Have you... uhm. Have you talked to Jack?"

Hotch's brows tightened and lowered, confused. "I talk to Jack every day, Reid, you know that."

"I meant about... something... difficult."

Now Hotch's eyes narrowed, and Reid knew his grace-period for making sense was rapidly running out. "What do you know, Reid?"

Reid took a deep breath and gathered his courage. "When I tucked Jack into bed on his birthday, he... he told me a secret. Told me not to tell you. And I promised him not to."

"Then you should keep that promise," Hotch cut in, but Reid barreled on.

"I can't. Hotch, he's so scared, right now. Terrified that you'll find out and... and leave him."

That brought Hotch up short. "Why would he think I'd leave him?"

Reid swallowed, his mouth twisting to the side in discomfort. "I... Because." Another breath. "Because he doesn't like Beth."

Hotch's jaw-muscles clenched so hard they seemed to jump under his skin. "He doesn't _like_ Beth?"

"He begged me to not tell you because he's afraid that you'll choose to be happy with her over being sad around him. He wants you to be happy, so he hides how he feels. You know what that means, Hotch, you know the long-term effects something like that can have."

Hotch covered his mouth with flat fingers. Reid had seen that gesture before. It was all about hiding a strong emotional response - usually a sad one.

"Hotch."

"I don't... What am I supposed to do?" The words were plaintive, broken. In the months since he'd met Beth, his humor had returned, slowly but surely. He seemed less prone to having bad days, although he'd always hidden them well. Reid might not personally harbor too many fond feelings for Beth, but he loved the effect she'd had on Hotch. If anyone deserved a second shot at happiness, it was the man in front of him, and Reid might just have taken away his shot at it.

But Reid knew Hotch almost as well as he knew himself. He had, after all, been watching the man near-obsessively for ten years. And he knew that to Hotch nothing was more important than Jack. Nothing. The boy was Hotch's whole life. Even Beth had to find ways to fit in around Jack's needs.

"You need to talk to Jack. I couldn't get him to articulate why he doesn't like Beth, but maybe you can. And you need to talk to him about why you still feel sad around him. I know you think you're hiding it well (actually, I don't doubt that you do), but Jack's an extremely empathic child. He senses it anyway, no matter how you try to hide it, and, with the logic of a si-seven-year-old it becomes his fault."

Hotch took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then another.

"What if he... what if he'll never get to like Beth? Then what do I do?"

Reid shrugged. "I don't know. I do know that single parents find new boy- and girlfriends every day. I'm sure not all of their children like these new extra parents they get. But somehow, everybody gets over it anyway."

"I want Jack to be happy. That's all. I mean, I like Beth. I really like Beth, but... Jack comes first. Always has."

Reid found himself smiling, just a little. Because he'd been right in his profiling of Aaron Hotchner, and that was always a thrill.

"I know. I can't help you with that, sorry."

They just were, sharing the silence, Hotch probably mulling over his options, Reid mulling over the second secret Jack had shared with him, hoping fervently Jack wouldn't see the need to share that secret with Hotch.

He figured Hotch probably knew he was bisexual. It had never been something he'd gone to great lengths to keep secret. On the other hand, he felt fairly confident Hotch didn't know about the inconvenient crush he was now battling for the one hundred and fourteenth month running. It was going about as well as could be expected, which meant it was under control ninety five percent of the time, and the remaining five percent it was concealed by distracting antics and rattling off trivia and statistics like there was no tomorrow.

It did not need the extra scrutiny Hotch could level if he got curious.

"What do you think of Beth? The truth, please, Reid."

Reid almost swallowed his tongue at that unexpected request, but he'd always been willing to descend into the pits of hell if Hotch asked him to, and this was no different.

"I think she's been good for you." That at least was the unvarnished truth. The entire team had begun wondering if Hotch would ever smile again. Beth had meant that happened, and it had been like watching the first rays of sunlight after a nuclear winter. "I'm not sure if she's been good _to_ you, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I think... She seems to view the team as competition. I mean, I can see why anyone would see it that way; we _do_ spend a lot of time away from home, and she's nowhere near as combatant about it as Haley seemed to be that last year or so of your marriage." Reid took a deep breath, then let loose with the most damning bit of profiling he'd done about Beth, even though he'd tried not to. "I think she's the kind of woman who thinks you'll be the perfect boyfriend once she's made a few adjustments. To you _or_ your job."

Hotch looked poleaxed, but he'd asked for it, and so he didn't respond with anger as Reid would have normally expected. Instead, he thanked Reid.

Shaken to his core, Reid finished the conversation with Hotch's promise that he'd talk to Jack about his fears and his dislike of Beth. Reid got the distinct impression that Hotch would be doing some serious thinking about Beth as well, and had a sinking feeling that Hotch would do what he always did. He was as good as Jack about choosing to sacrifice himself rather than inflict pain upon those he loved.

He promised himself that he'd keep a close eye on Hotch for the foreseeable future, and that he'd make sure to go visit Jack as soon as possible, to give the boy a chance to talk. And possibly be angry about Reid's betrayal of his confidence.

He promised himself that if it broke his heart into a million pieces he'd make sure Hotch didn't go through the rest of his life as lonely as the rest of the team (with the exception of JJ and Garcia) were. He'd find someone for Hotch to love. Someone to love Hotch. And someone Jack would accept, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Reid watched Hotch like a hawk for the next few weeks, but nothing seemed to change. Hotch didn't change his hours at work, didn't seem like his temper was shorter, nor his mood darker.

By the end of the third week, Reid couldn't stand the suspense any longer, and set about catching Hotch somewhere private.

By the end of the fourth week, he decided that 'somewhere private' didn't have to be 'out of the office'. Instead, he waited until everyone else had left the office, and went to knock on Hotch's open door.

"Reid. You need anything?"

"I wanted to talk. About... Jack." Reid let his pause speak for him. He took no pleasure in the faint look of horror that skittered through Hotch's eyes before he masked it with a scowl.

"I don't think we should be talking about that here," Hotch stated, but Reid took a breath and closed the door behind him.

"I know. I know. But we're not going to talk anywhere else and I worry about Jack."

"I can take care of my own son," Hotch growled, but Reid recognized it as a last-ditch defense.

"I never doubted that. I just want to know how he's doing."

Hotch glared for a few seconds more, probably mostly to see if Reid would back down. Then he sighed.

"All right. Jack's spending the weekend with Jessica. How about dinner?"

"Sounds good," Reid said honestly and smiled faintly. Maybe the talk wouldn't be so nice, but dining with Hotch was always a pleasure.

***

Dinner, it turned out, was carryout from a local Italian place. The place was overflowing with people, so Reid figured that boded well for the quality of the food.

About a year after Haley's death, Hoch had bought a small townhouse with a tiny walled garden. The garden came with a huge old oak-tree, more than big enough for a swing, and gnarly enough to provide ample opportunities for climbing. Jack loved it.

As for the rest of the garden, the team had taken one of the weekends off and dealt with it. Morgan had been mister handy and put in a deck that covered almost half of the available space; a nice big deck that could easily house the team and a hammock Garcia had insisted on. Reid had stained the wood the next day, not minding having to spend the entire weekend with Hotch and Jack. Rossi had managed the barbecue, and the girls had done something with shrubs and flowers. Prentiss had looked out of her element, but had gamely fetched and carried for JJ and Garcia, the latter carrying around an iPad with some sort of plan on it.

It had been a really nice weekend, sunny and warm. Jack had demanded his afternoon nap in the hammock, and had declared that Hotch had to lie in it with him. So the team had been treated to the sight of Hotch relaxing with his son, lying in that hammock, reading a book, one leg bent over the edge, dangling almost to the ground, faded jeans rucking up, revealing a surprisingly skinny ankle leading down to the flip-flops that had, besides the polo-shirt, been Hotch's only concession to the heat.

In deferene to that relaxed memory, Reid made the unilateral decision of setting the table in the kitchen, while Hotch went to the bathroom. If he was surprised when he returned, he didn't show it. Usually only Hotch and Jack ate in the kitchen. Any guest meant setting the table in the dining room and making something of a production out of it.

The food was very good, and Reid discovered that once food started hitting his stomach, he was extremely hungry. They didn't talk until the forks began slowing down sufficiently to give at least a chance of a breath in between mouthfuls. Then Hotch started playing with his food, an unexpected tell that always signified nervousness.

"Beth and I... we decided it was best if we took a break. Just for a while."

"I'm sorry," Reid said, honestly.

"Jack is back in therapy, for now. His psychologist thinks maybe it's too soon for me to be introducing new people into as close contact with Jack as I did with Beth."

"Do you think so?"

Hotch pushed a matched pair of cannelloni up one side of the plate and left them stranded with a blood trail of tomato sauce leading down to the pool at the bottom.

"I think Jack's happier, now," he said quietly.

Reid pushed his own plate aside, suddenly no longer hungry. "I wish you hadn't had to give up Beth to get there," he said with complete honesty.

For a few minutes silence and the sound of cutlery scraping idly against flatware reigned. Then Reid took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I know it was absolutely none of my business, and Jack would probably have grown used to Beth over time. I really didn't mean to make you break up with your girlfriend."

Hotch didn't smile, but when he looked up his eyes weren't cold, either. "Not your fault, Reid. It might take me a while to forgive you, but you did what you did for my son. That's not something you ever have to apologize for."

Reid shrugged minutely. "I care about Jack."

"And Jack cares about you."

Another silence stretched, and Reid took that as his cue to leave. At the door, Hotch stopped him. "Next weekend off... come stay with us. Jack and I. He's missed you this past month."

"I missed him, too, but I wasn't sure how welcome I'd be."

"Reid. You're always welcome. Even when I’m angry. You'll come?"

Reid nodded. It was better than he'd hoped for. It was probably better than he deserved.

As punishment he decided, as he walked to his car, that he'd talk to Jack about Beth. Maybe get Jack to encourage Hotch to get back together with her. 

It would only be fitting if he succeeded.


	4. Chapter 4

The weekend was wet and windy, and Reid was exhausted by a long case that had brought back unwelcome memories by way of a schizophrenic unsub who had slaughtered her way through a school class. In other words, it had been a long week of children’s mutilated corpses, all around Jack's age. So when Jack opened the door to let him in, Reid didn't even stop to hesitate, but simply sank down on his good knee and opened his arms.

It was gratifying how easily Jack came into his embrace and for the first time in a week Reid actually relaxed, holding onto the boy.

When he finally looked up, it was to find a domestic Hotch, wiping his hands on a dishtowel and smiling down at the two of them. For just a fraction of a second, Reid imagined that he could come home to this every day; that he could stand up and Hotch would pull him close and kiss him. The power of the fantasy made his heart ache.

“Hello Reid. Jack, dinner’s almost ready. It’s time to clear the table, buddy.”

“Sure, daddy!” Jack jumped up and ran into the dining room.

"Should I help him?" Reid asked once he'd gotten to his feet, something that didn't happen without some consideration after he'd been shot in the knee.

"He's fine," Hotch said, and beckoned Reid into the kitchen instead, where the scent of roasting beef was joined by the sight of half-mashed potatoes and a salad in the making. Without asking, Reid went to work on the potatoes, catching Hotch's smile out of the corner of his eye.

"How is Jack doing?"

There was crunching of fresh salad under a knife's edge, a distinctive sound.

"Better now you're here. He was thrilled you were coming over."

"I'm happy to see him too," Reid answered honestly, mashing away at the potatoes almost blind with relief that he was welcome, and whatever semblance of friendship he'd had with Hotch hadn't been irrevocably damaged.

"Daddy, I'm done!"

"Great job, buddy. Can you set the table, too?" Reid didn't look at the interaction between them. He didn't particularly want to. It was too reminiscent of something he wanted but couldn't have. He didn't understand people who claimed that single dads had a hard time getting dates. He enjoyed Hotch's many sides, but none got to him on quite the level as Hotch being a dad to Jack.

Consequently he jumped when Hotch suddenly appeared, a hairsbreadth behind him, his head almost on Reid's left shoulder. "I think those potatoes are sufficiently mashed. Would you give Jack a hand with the plates and glasses?"

"Of course," Reid exhaled and waited. After a few seconds, it was clear that Hotch had no intention of moving, and it confused Reid. Unless of course, it was about Hotch reclaiming control over Reid. In which case it made perfect sense that he'd force Reid to back down.

Reid squeezed out past Hotch, making sure to not challenge him physically. "I'll just, uhm..."

***

Dinner proved almost too exciting for Reid. He vacillated between comfortable banter and friendly conversation, to awkward, tension-diffusing techniques Hotch was guaranteed to see through, to moments of embarrassing silence. The food was good, but the constant tension had Reid so much on edge his stomach felt like one big knotted ball of intestines, incapable of processing the food he ate.

When they were done, Hotch claimed the clean-up duty for himself, and sent Jack off to bed with Reid. Jack seemed enthusiastic enough about it, grabbing Reid by the hand and pulling him along. Sometimes Reid really did wonder if Jack was an average child, given how he welcomed bedtime whenever Reid was around.

Tonight, however, Reid took advantage of the time Hotch had given him, alone with Jack. No doubt entirely planned, but no less welcome (or feared) for that.

"Jack, I need to appologize to you."

The boy frowned, a very Hotch expression on a face that was more Haley, anyway. "Okay. Why?"

Reid cleared his throat nervously. "Because I told your dad about Beth after I promised you I wouldn't."

"It's okay," Jack promised him solemnly.

"It... It is?"

"Daddy told me that sometimes you should break a promise. Like... If Michael made me promise to not tell anyone and then told me that he was going to do something dangerous, then I'd have to tell someone."

Reid suppressed a smile. That was a very Hotch rule. Almost everybody thought he was so bound by rules, but in reality Hotch was more about getting the job done. It just so happened that in order to get the job done, more often than not they had to follow the rules to the letter to make convicting the bad guys easier.

"So you're not mad at me?"

Jack shook his head, then bit his lip.

"What is it, Jack?"

The boy scuffed one foot into the carpet. "You might be mad at me, though," he offered quietly.

Reid suppressed his immediate need to ask why in favor of remindng Jack of something he'd told him before. "Jack, you know that I might get mad at you for a little while, but it will never, ever make me like you less, right?"

"I remember."

Reid sat down on the bed and coaxed Jack up to sit beside him, curled into Reid's side. Feeling comfortable in tht position never stopped surprising Reid. "Okay. So tell me. Why do you think I might be mad at you?"

"Because I told daddy that... that I kinda wished he'd be kissing you, in stead."

God, Reid did not need this. But there it was, trying to explain the Kinsey-scale to a seven-year old.

"Jack. That's not... Your dad, he likes to kiss girls, not boys."

Guileless brown eyes looked up at him. "I like to kiss girls, but I like to kiss boys, too."

Reid didn't quite groan or smack his head into the wall a couple of times. "And I like to kiss boys, most of the time. There's nothing wrong with any of us, but if you don't like to kiss boys, then you don't like to kiss boys."

Jack pouted adorably. "He should at least try. Maybe he'd like it. Like when I have to try new food, and sometimes I like it, even though I think I'm not going to."

"Maybe I would." Reid jumped, dislodging Jack in the process. Jack, grumbling, crawled back under Reid's arm, not noticing or caring about the sudden tension. God how long had Aaron been standing there, right outside the door? How much had he heard? That Reid was pretty much exclusively gay?

It wasn't that he was closeted, or anything, it was just easier to not talk about it. And he really hadn't wanted his boss to find out. He didn't particulrly want Hotch to find out, either. It might mean an end to their easy companionship. Or to the debates they still occasionally engaged in. Or maybe, and that was pretty much the worst case scenario, Hotch would realize Reid was hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with him, and be so uncomfortable he'd ask Reid to transfer away from the BAU voluntarily.

Reid would do it, of course, with no fuss. He just wasn't sure he'd survive it with his mind intact. As if a broken heart wouldn't be enough to deal with.

And then he realized he was tilting a little to the left because Hotch had sat down on the bed, too. Heart pounding, mouth bone-dry, Reid looked at Hotch with utter terror, not understanding what was happening.

"Going to let me try?" Hotch asked mildly, clarifying; "Kissing you, I mean?"

"Wh...?" Reid stopped, swallowed and tried again, the two seconds time enough to get some kind of defences up. "Hotch, you can't be serious!"

Unfortunately Hotch was serious. Very serious. "It's just a kiss, Reid. Jack's right, you know. You can't decide you don't like something before you've tried it."

Damn, Reid thought, his brain still spinning, gibbering in a silent panic. It wouldn’t just be a kiss, not to Reid, but could he turn it down? Could he miss it, knowing that it would probably be his only chance to ever kiss Hotch?

More importantly by far; could he be a bad example for Jack? And the answer to that was, and always would be, a resounding no. Jack’s health, happiness and healthy development was paramount.

Reid didn’t close his eyes. He never did, when facing down things that scared him. He simply faced them, head on. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Hotch said, displaying mild surprise. Reid didn’t know whether to hope he’d back down in the face of the threat of having to carry through, but even as he was dithering, he remembered that Hotch wasn’t a blinker. Hotch was the kind of man who faced down Foyet without moving a muscle. Who stood up to men like Hardwicke and never flinched. Hotch made up his mind and carried through. End of story.

“Yeah, okay,” Reid repeated, more to himself than for Hotch’s benefit. There was no doubt that now, when Hotch had committed to a course of action, he was going to carry through.

Then there was a hand on his cheek, big and warm and a mixture of calluses and smoothness that comes only from people who mix working with guns with working with paper and computers. And Hotch’s eyes, brown and luminous and caring, just inches away and moving closer, and Reid felt like he’d drown on dry land, because those eyes filled up his entire world.

And then they drifted closed, and Hotch’s face tilted to one side, and there was that first, tentative brush of touch across his lips, and then there was more, and firmer, and God, Reid thought, opening his eyes, when had he closed them?

Jack was there, Reid remembered only when the boy clambered onto his lap, looking up at the both of them with a big smile, and asking, guilelessly: “So how did you like it, daddy?”

Since Reid was kind of curious to hear the answer to that too, he turned his head to find Hotch smiling, gently and mildly, and so happily that Reid could almost feel his heart swell like the Grinch.

“I think I like kissing boys. At least… I like kissing Spencer.” Hotch stopped and looked thoughtful for a minute before he asked Jack, plaintively: “Do I have to kiss other boys to make sure I like kissing boys, or can I just keep kissing Spencer?”

Jack looked adorably torn. Eventually, he seemed to reach a Salomonic solution and presented it with an angelically serene look. “I wouldn’t mind if you just like kissing Spencer.”

“What do you think, Spencer?” Hotch turned the self-same thoughtful look on Reid, only this time with a definite gleam in his eyes. “Would it be okay if I only kissed you for a while?”

Reid lost his breath. Later, maybe (much later), he’d wonder how he could have missed where it was going, but for now there was room for nothing else but processing that Hotch had, essentially, just offered him a relationship.

Reid ran through the permutations, skipping his heart which unequivocally told him to take the offer. The relationship would be problematic at work, but he trusted Hotch (strict, rule-observant Hotch) to have considered that, and found a workable solution. Work aside, there were only two basic possibilities. Either they worked in a relationship, which would be… amazing. Or they didn’t. At which point Reid would be no worse off than he was right at this instant, having just been kissed by his boss.

Really, there was only one correct answer to a question like that, and although his voice broke on the first try, and he knew he was probably looking like an idiot, he gave it as nonchalantly as he possibly could. “I wouldn’t mind that, Aaron.”

And just like that, Jack broke out in great, gleeful whoops of laughter, hugging Reid, and Hotch laughed too, but hugged Reid harder, and Reid found himself laughing as well, not caring what it sounded like, or how he looked, only caring that he was in a relationship with the man he loved, the father of a boy he loved more than reason, and that he was happy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be mentions of discliplining children as a good idea. Nobody gets hurt, but if it squicks you, turn back now!

Spencer Reid loathed the Mall like it was the seventh circle of hell, but he'd braved it today, because both Hotch and Jack had insisted the Santa at this mall was the right one. He'd just seen Hotch and Jack vanish into the throng of parents and kids surrounding the mystical Santa, when a slender brunette approached him.

"Doctor Reid."

"Miss Jacobs," Reid replied politely. The days of thinking of giving up Hotch for this woman were gone. Jack adored having Reid around, and giggled in pleasure every time Hotch and Reid kissed. Nothing had changed at work, mainly through their abilities to compartmentalize and a dedication to leave their relationship at home they both shared.

As for their relationship, they were moving ahead at a pace that seemed to suit them both. They hadn't jumped into bed the first night, rather they'd taken the opportunity to just spend time together, cuddling, hugging and kissing. Entirely unplanned, they'd moved to mutual masturbation just two nights ago, and they'd both enjoyed themselves tremendously.

"I thought I saw Aaron over here, somewhere?"

"Oh, you did," Reid answered readily enough. "They braved the crowd so Jack could sit on Santa's lap."

"That's nice," Beth said, her tone of voice betraying her disappointment. "I was hoping to maybe talk to Hotch, hear how Jack was doing."

Hear if Jack was over his dislike for her so she could get her boyfriend back, more like it, Reid thought uncharitably. Not that he could blame her, he'd probably want to do the same in her position, only difference was that he'd be able to profile Hotch and know that no contact meant no chance.

"Jack's doing really well," Reid told her none-the-less, with a smile that had fooled serial-killers for years, not telling her that the therapist had approved whole-heartedly of Hotch's new boyfriend being someone Jack already knew and loved. "The therapist calls him a remarkably well-adjusted child, in fact."

"Oh, that's good!" Beth smiled, clearly relieved, and just as obviously thinking that getting back together with Hotch was just a matter of form. Reid, however, had no intention of letting that thought settle in and get comfortable in her mind.

"I know! Beth. While I've got you, can I ask you something that's been bothering me?"

"Sure!"

“Have you always been bad with children, or was it just Jack?”

Beth’s smile froze and turned into a grimace. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, I get it if it’s generic. I used to be really bad around kids, too. Hotch called it the ‘Reid effect’. But between Jack and Henry, I think I’ve gotten the hang of smaller children. I’m just curious as to why you couldn’t get along with Jack. I mean, I might be biased, but I think he’s probably the one who is easiest to get along with out of all the children I’ve ever met. He’s straight-forward, honest, empathic and smart. He likes people. So I guess I’m still wondering why he didn’t like you.”

Beth was gaping along the way, but her mouth quickly contracted to a narrow slit once Reid stopped talking.

“I don’t have to stand here and take this!”

“You really don’t,” Reid agreed mildly. “You could leave.”

“Now, you listen here. I didn’t like you from the first time I met you. You’re rude and try to hide it behind being too smart to care about social mores. You don’t shut up about whatever obscure thing catches your interest. You got in the way of me bonding with Jack from day one. And for some reason, despite the fact that you’re an absolutely horrible role-model for Jack, Aaron refused to keep you away from him.”

Reid barely paused.

“Oh, that’s why Jack didn’t like you. For some reason (and I don’t really know why) he really likes me. And if you tried to tell him that he shouldn’t… well. I think you’ve found that Jack’s the kind of kid who makes up his own mind.”

Beth’s nostrils flared angrily. “Of course he likes you! You’re an ill-mannered, obnoxious kid! You’re as bad as Aaron, letting him run wild, do whatever he likes. But kids need to be disciplined.”

Reid felt his jaw drop for a fraction of a second before the muscles contracted, snapping it back into place. “Disciplined?”

“Spare the rod, and spoil the child. I talked to Aaron about this, but he seemed disinclined to do what had to be done. Jack is rude, he doesn’t understand that children should be seen and not heard, that they shouldn’t speak until they’re spoken to.”

Reid found he missed the weight of his gun. “You actually suggested that Hotch should hit Jack?”

“Not hit him. Just… discipline him. A good spanking never hurt anyone.”

“No child should ever be hit,” Reid stated, firm in that conviction. “As for not hurting anyone… God. Did you ever stop to think that parental abuse comes from somewhere? Comes from someone who loses their temper and discovers they like their kid cowering in front of them?”

Beth smiled, suddenly and viciously. “Why Doctor Reid, I hope you don’t think that Aaron would ever lose his temper with Jack?”

“I know better,” Reid snarled. “But do you know what it would do to him to hit Jack? Do you know what it would do to Jack? And if you’re suggesting that you should be punishing Jack… Well. I don’t know you, Beth. And I don’t trust you to not lose your temper.”

Beth blanched, and then Reid felt a familiar hand land on the nape of his neck. “And neither do I, Beth. Spencer and I agree on this. Jack will not be disciplined physically. Ever.”

Beth drew herself up, haughty and desperate. Reid could see through her, now, and he found that he pitied her. Even with her views on discipline. Perhaps because of her views on discipline.

“Aaron. I don’t understand. Are you letting Doctor Reid make decisions for your son, now?”

Jack squeezed into the scant space left between Reid and Hotch’s legs, and Reid curled his fingers around the small hand offered to him.

“I’m letting Spencer make decisions for this family, now. Because I trust him to do what’s best for Jack, no matter how he personally feels about it, or how much it might hurt him. For Spencer, Jack comes first. That’s the most important thing.”

“And I love Spencer,” Jack chimed in, with conviction. Reid just had to smile.

“And I love Hotch and Jack, more than myself. More than anyone. I’d do anything for the two of them. I’m guessing you can’t say the same?”

Judging by the sudden look of disgust on Beth’s face, she was finally getting it, and Reid would bet good money that spanking wasn’t the only issue on which Beth was conservative. “Well. I wish you all the best, I’m sure.”

Reid couldn’t let it go at that. “For what it’s worth, Beth, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what? Corrupting a good man?”

Reid could feel Hotch begin to tremble with restrained laughter, but he didn’t stop. “No. I’m sorry that you think hitting children and teaching them to be anything but children is a good idea. I’m sorry that you don’t like gays. And I’m sorry you ever walked into Jack’s life.”

“I’m not,” Hotch said, having gotten his laughter under control, although it was still evident in his voice. “If not for Beth, I would never have made a move on you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s right, Beth. Spencer didn’t corrupt me. In fact, I’d say it was the other way around.”

“I told you you had to try kissing boys, daddy.”

“You did, buddy. And you were right.”

“You are all disgusting!” Beth said and flounced off.

“You think we’ll see anything more of her?” Reid had to ask.

“No. I think this was the last straw. And to be honest, I don’t really want to think about Beth any more.”

“Just think, if it wasn’t for her, we probably wouldn’t be together.”

Hotch turned smouldering eyes on Reid, who felt the embers spread down his entire body. “Oh, I don’t think I could have kept my distance forever.”

“Uncle Spencer, can I have ice-cream now?”

Reid gave Hotch a last, lingering look which he hoped promised that they would be advancing their sexual adventures sooner rather than later, before turning his attention to Jack. “Of course you can, Jack. Or we could have pancakes. Would you like pancakes?”

“Yay! Pancakes!” Jack did a little happy dance on the spot.

“You spoil our son,” Hotch stated with a smile.

“Our son?”

“Just as soon as I can get the adoption papers drawn up. Provided you’ll sign them?”

“That’s… a pretty big Christmas present.” Red said hesitantly.

“Think about it. Take all the time you need. But you’re the one I want making decisions for Jack if I’m incapacitated. Think about that, too.”

“Come on, Daddy! Come on, Uncle Spencer! Pancakes!” Jack grabbed hold of a hand each, and started dragging at them.

Hotch laughed. “We’re coming. Spencer promised you pancakes, didn’t he?”

“I will,” Reid said, while Jack dragged them towards the pancake-house. “I'll sign, if you get the papers.”

Hotch’s smile said it all.


End file.
